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Perhaps now I'll be online with a little more frequency. Though, considering the way my schedule looks, that might or might not be exactly the way things turn out.

I've already been camping with the whole of my family, Margaret, Ellie's fiance Mark, Jesse's wife Alice and their two kids (both of whom I am convinced are changeling demons) and Father Joe. Of course at least one of the family's priests tagged along; it was somewhat inescapable. I'm just glad it was Joe, because he actually has a sense of humour and can be somewhat creative in the preparation of tinned beans. We are all now extremely sick of tinned beans, but my cousin Nathaniel was responsible for the food, and that was all he saw fit to bring.

Margaret had never spent a night out-of-doors before. It was nearly midnight before she went to sleep on the first night, and the following day was punctuated by her repeated violent run-ins with the local fauna. Imagine a young woman in an anorak eight or nine sizes too large for her, zipping away from the pond as fast as her legs would carry her, flapping her arms in the air and shrieking "WOBBIES!!!" It has since been determined that 'wobby' is not in any dictionary, but it should be known that she was referring to a whining cloud of small winged insects that were trying to take up residence in her hair and anorak. Of course Jesse was clever enough to bring a large can of rubber snakes, lizards and insects, which he unleashed into her sleeping bag, much to the amusement of nearly everyone there. At Margaret's request, I was required to 'beat the excrement' out of him later, but I did think it was quite a decent joke. (She has a way with words, hasn't she?) I find it amazing that a biology teacher can be perfectly alright with all manner of dead creatures floating in formaldehyde, but when a live one comes at her, she panics. Very peculiar.

As for the coming weeks, I have been shanghaied into the Amateur Shakespearean Society (abbreviated a** rofl ) and stuffed into the part of Yorick. I never thought to be photographed in tights, but it would seem that I have little foresight. Most unfortunate. In addition, my school's strings orchestra has agreed that they will continue meeting over the summer to keep in better practise, so I will be overseeing those rehearsals periodically.

Now all that's left is to find someone who can repair the plumbing, since Margaret won't let me near it.